Nancy

'Nancy' is a quiet, contemplative movie. Sound scarcely rises above a normal conversational range; it would be easy to emphasize strong emotional beats in a story like this, but the tone is generally even and reserved to the point of almost feeling flat. Performances are notably subdued from all involved, including star Andrea Riseborough most of all, but also Steve Buscemi, from whom we usually expect roles of much more lively personality. Well after the plot actively stirs it never truly seems like it's begun at all, and not until the movie approaches its very end is there a sense of something profound at hand.

I enjoy and appreciate films of all flavors, including the most low-key and unbusy. 'Nancy' is well made from a technical standpoint, with especially swell consideration for the way scenes are arranged. There's a deft nuance to everyone's performances that aptly illustrates their skill, perhaps all the greater a challenge given the restrained air about the picture. Despite all this, I admittedly have a hard time engaging with the movie. It never feels incomplete, or lacking in any specific element per se. There's just not really anything to hold onto, anything that meaningfully sparks our imagination. 'Nancy' isn't bad, but I watch it and just don't feel the impact I assume was intended.

Art is subjective. Clearly this has an admiring audience, and I'm glad for that. I'm just not it. 'Nancy' is a reasonably worthwhile view if you come across it, but temper your expectations, and don't go out of your way.

The beginning of the movie was absorbingly unhurried, drawing you into the claustrophobic confines of antiheroine Nancy's (Andrea Riseborough) white bread world.

We witness her dysfunctional co-dependency with undemonstrative mother Betty (Ann Dowd, even dourer than in Handmaid). A poor excuse for a parent, she is the antonym of empowering of her offspring, discouraging downtrodden Nancy from trying, convinced she'll never succeed.

Riseborough impressively blends vulnerability and an innate dishonesty as this lost child-woman floundering on the outskirts of society cooking up interesting life experiences to swap like recipes in work lunch breaks, in an effort to convince everybody else that she's just like them.

When she wishful thinks herself the child kidnapped from dream parents Ellen (J. Smith-Cameron) and (Steve Buscemi) as a five-year-old, you cross your fingers and pray she's finally found where she belongs.

Ellen for me was the revelation in the piece, a picture of heartbreaking hope and desperate desire that this pretender's story prove true. The bond they forge is beautiful and visibly enriches them both. Smith-Cameron's face, betraying all her emotions, and her developing unconditional love for this would-be daughter reduce me to tears. Paul Raeburn's music helps to destroy me.

The film is full of ambiguities that intrigue rather than frustrate. Not much happens, in fact but we're allowed to watch a family drama play out and a soul adrift's quest for a safe mooring.

Is no one going to ask about the effing wig? I mean it's the main character, the riddle, the subplot. No one addresses it? The Wig wasn't even in the credits. Dang, they did wig wrong.

Interesting debut with strong performances and a compelling tale.

This could have gone down a darker, criminal route but wisely doesn't. It stays downbeat, and oddly touching.

For some bizarre reason, Prime classified this as a suspense/horror. This description is reinforced by the movie thumbnail depicting the main character as a sort of Jekyll/Hyde split personality. This was the reason I decided to watch it.

This movie is a quiet drama about lonliness and desperation. The titular character lives in a drab small town with an ailing, unthankful and abrasive mother that she is forced to care for. She escapes this misery via social media which leads her to create real-world vicarious experiences to try to connect emotionally with outside people.

There's no action... no sinister motives... no dramatic music... no shouted dialogue... no histrionics... Every character we meet in this movie is hurting inside and trying to relieve that pain via human connection.

There a couple of recognizable actors, but the main actress Andrea Riseborough -- whom I'd never heard of -- is the surprise. IMDB tells me she is an English actress(!) who has been nominated for an Oscar. Though she rarely talks above a murmur and has little to do physically, she effectively conveys the bleakness of her character's unhappy existence.

I enjoyed it because I've reached an age where I can relate in some way to each person in the movie. If you can't relate to it, consider yourself lucky.

It's the emotional ambiguity of the final scene that has me wrestling with a rating for this movie. Depending on your dispostion you'll find it either cynical or uplifting.